


Accident

by naboru



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Dark, Gen, Implied Mind-Overwriting(?), Implied Murder, Minor Character Death, Pre-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-17 21:01:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11859576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naboru/pseuds/naboru
Summary: Blast Off learns that it isn’t difficult to kill.Note: Hints strongly to Eden Log, so you might want to read that before or after this. It's not essential though, as this story works on its own.





	Accident

**Author's Note:**

> **Characters:** Blast Off, two unnamed OCs (teacher and student)  
>  **Continuity:** G1 Dysfunction AU, pre-war  
>  **Disclaimer:** Nothing is mine, besides the Blast Off toy on my shelf, but I don’t think that counts.  
>  **Prompt:** #2 - “This conversation can serve no purpose anymore. Goodbye.”  
>  **Beta:** ultharkitty

It was a routine mission; the only difference was that this time he wasn't flying alone.

Blast Off’s passengers were two scientists from the Altihex Xenological Research Institute, a teacher and his student; he didn’t bother to learn their names. It always felt a bit weird being just the ride, the transport, but the teacher was an expert in his field, and Blast Off could also learn something new.

It had been a decacycle since they began their journey and Blast Off was already tired. He didn’t recharge well when he was responsible for other people’s lives. Not because he cared about his passengers, but because he wanted to fulfil the task as well as possible. This lent an edge of alarm as his scanners picked up unusual signals.

Reluctantly he activated his inboard speaker, interrupting a discussion between the two scientists.

“I would like you to take a look at the screens,” he said.

The teacher turned his head, but the student jerked as though startled.

“What is it?” the older one asked calmly.

“Just take a look at the screens.”

Blast Off waited until both passengers did as they were told, before continuing. “My scanners reveal difficult readings of a space weather anomaly, which could lead to turbulence and endanger our lives.”

There was a moment of silence in which the teacher checked the measurements and sighed. Another moment passed, before he finally responded. “What do you suggest?”

“I will fly to the fringe of the area, where you can start your research. Depending on the development of the anomaly, I may have to detour around it.”

“But we’re on schedule!” the student blurted, and his teacher didn’t scold him for it. 

Blast Off ignored his tone, and answered firmly, repeating himself, “I will fly to the fringe of the area.”

With this the discussion was over. Blast Off concentrated again on the flight path and coordinates.

\---

His inboard cameras were offline, and Blast Off was in a light recharge. In space, you never fully recharged, especially not when you were travelling faster than anything was able to in an atmosphere.

His last acceleration had used the gravitational field of a gas giant, and had been more exhausting than expected, and so he tried to relax.

If everything went as planned, they should arrive at the asteroid belt within the next two cycles. Blast Off didn’t think that the anomaly would vanish before then. These phenomena often needed decacycles, vorns even, to disappear and so his CPU had already calculated various alternative routes to the other end of the belt.

In his cargo hold, the two scientists prepared their instruments, checking measures they were already gathering, and talked quietly with each other.

Blast Off never knew why they did that; if he noticed them talk, he usually disabled his audio receptors. There was no need to be that cautious.

This time, though, the shuttle overheard a few lines that make him feel uneasy.

“Every mech in charge gets the codes,” the teacher said in a whisper.

“But I don’t know,” the student replied. “It wouldn’t be right to use them. It’s not an emergency.”

“You said it a few cycles ago: We’re on schedule. If I disable his consciousness, I can fly us through the belt. I’m a trained pilot.”

“But the anomaly. And… We can’t do that. He's just trying to protect us.” The student’s voice was uncertain.

“Listen, every shuttleformer has this security program for a reason. We’ll lose cycles if he wants to fly all the way around…”

At this point, Blast Off cut the audio input. He had heard enough. His passengers planned to disable his consciousness; the sick feeling of panic spread from his tanks over his every line.

It wasn't just that they planned to make him a mindless drone, they also wanted to fly through the anomaly, and put him into danger without him having a chance to react.

Sure, every Cybertronian with a shuttle alt-mode possessed these lines of code, which allowed a responsible individual to block out each shuttle's awareness, but it was only to gain control if there was a _real_ emergency.

Back on Cybertron, Blast Off had heard a few stories from fellow shuttles who had been through it. It had never been pleasant.

His tanks lurched again, and now he wasn’t able to relax or recharge any longer. Maybe he was lucky and the anomaly would have vanished when they arrived. They'd have no reason to consider a change of plan then. 

But Blast Off didn’t even know when the teacher wanted to type in the codes.

With concern, he activated one of the rear cameras.

He kept his cameras glued to the two scientists for the duration of that stage of the flight.

\---

They followed Blast Off’s suggestion and stopped to investigate a meteoroid at the fringe of the belt.

Due to the speed, it was a complicated task to get into the orbit of the giant flying rock. It was even harder than usual, because Blast Off was so utterly tired and could barely focus. His thrusters and reaction control system were fine-tuned for these actions, but he needed to troubleshoot his own mistakes every now and then.

He doubted the scientist would be able to perform a manoeuvre like this without his help, and it gave him a moment of satisfaction. Though there was still the threat that the scientist would use the codes and force the shuttle into unconsciousness.

While flying, Blast Off hadn’t talked about this. He hadn’t acknowledged that he had overheard the conversation and knew about the scientists’ intent. He’d simply waited. The anomaly was still there, it had only changed slightly, but not enough to fly through safely. He hoped that the two scientists would abandon their plan.

\---

Once in the orbit of the meteoroid, Blast Off’s speed adjusted to it, and it seemed as if he wasn’t moving at all.

There was only the one suit designed for mechs not built for the intense conditions of space, and so only the teacher went out, connected to the shuttle with a thick cable. The student remained within the cargo hold, analysing information at a console.

Blast Off was deep in thought. He had intended to learn something from this mission, but now he was too distracted.

He waited.

\---

9 breems and 5.64 kliks after the teacher had left the air lock chamber, he spoke over the open communication link. “Blast Off, open the air lock door, I’m coming in.” In his hands he held some weird looking ore.

Blast Off was thinking, and didn’t respond.

There was an annoyed huff over the open channel, before the scientist repeated. “Blast Off? Would you open the door, please?”

The shuttle’s inboard cameras focused on the student, who was still composed, and again, he didn’t answer.

He felt the reset of the communication link as the scientist made sure his lack of communication wasn’t caused due to a glitch in the hardware, and a third time the words were spoken. “Open the air lock door.”

It was only then that Blast Off replied, in a calm voice. “I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

The student looked up into one of the cameras, and Blast Off refocused it, observing his expression.

The teacher sounded troubled when he asked, “Excuse me?”

“I’m afraid I can’t let you in again.”

The student’s face changed slightly, now showing a hint of shock and disturbance.

“Why?”

“I am a sentient being.”

The student frowned, and the teacher made a noise that expressed ignorance, but he didn’t speak. Blast Off carried on. “And I will stay sentient.”

There was a glimpse of understanding within the expression of the student, then he winced, and it caused Blast Off a moment of panic.

He had forgotten to jam their private comm-link, and now the student was on his way to the cockpit. Probably to computerise the codes Blast Off was so scared of.

Blast Off deactivated the artificial gravity and slammed his cockpit door shut.

The student, not used to weightlessness, floated up into the centre of the cargo bay, but was clearly still trying to get near the cockpit and its control consoles. Though Blast Off didn’t recognise the uncoordinated movements as a threat, and paid more attention to the teacher in space.

The scientist was using the connecting cable to approach to the door. That was unsettling; he might be able to open it manually. The shuttle activated one of his external arms which were usually needed to dock onto satellites or space stations, and carefully directed it at the teacher. 

“What are you planning?” The teacher wanted to know, but Blast Off kept quiet.

The outdoor mechanism reached the cable, and its clamps grabbed it tightly. In the vacuum of space it was always difficult to anticipate how much pressure might be needed, and the safety line held. Blast Off tried again, increasing the pressure, and realised that he needed the second arm.

The student inside got hold of something that looked like a cannon, or gun, it also could just have been something similar to a crow bar, but Blast Off reacted on self-preservation, and opened the rear doors without thinking. And not just the outer airlock, but also the doors in his interior, building a tunnel which sucked the air and equipment into space creating in a brief but turbulent whirlwind.

The teacher lost his grip of the cable and it strained, leaving him floating at the maximum possible extent. The student inside managed to hold onto Blast Off’s interior walls for a few astroseconds, before the pull was too intense and he let go, flying towards his teacher.

“Blast Off, what are you doing?!” The older scientist demanded, and caught his colleague by the arm.

Blast Off watched them. Without protective equipment, the younger of the two would soon be unconscious, his energon lines already beginning to freeze while the vacuum tore at his joints.

“I will stay sentient,” Blast Off said. “I won’t allow you to turn me into a mindless drone.”

He moved the second outer arm into position, grabbed another part at the cable and, this time, he was able to break it.

“What are you talking about?”

“You know what I'm talking about.” Blast Off said. He closed his doors, and gathered enough air from his tanks to rebuild onboard pressure.

His outdoor mechanism still held the end of the cable.

“No, I do _not_ know.” The teacher took a look at his student. “Blast Off, we still can solve this when you let us in. The Institute doesn’t need to know. Just let us in…”

His tone was desperate, but Blast Off didn’t care. Of course, the Institute didn’t need to know. It was an accident. He hadn't killed them on purpose.

The life support systems of the teacher’s space equipment would go offline within the next joor if the scientists didn’t link himself and his own energy to the suit. And even then, he wouldn’t survive longer than a cycle.

Blast Off's cameras took a glance at the student. He hadn’t wanted to throw him out; it was an unfortunate mishap. The student didn’t seem to be of the same opinion as his teacher, but there was no going back. The vacuum and cold would take care of him. There were tiny shards of frozen energon around the mech, probably from a few lines which already hadn’t been able to withstand the pressure any longer.

“You can’t leave us here!” The teacher yelled.

“I think I can.”

“You won’t get away with this! You will pay-”

Blast Off interrupted the cursing, calmly saying, “This conversation can serve no further purpose. Goodbye.”

He deactivated his communication link, and let go of the cable.

With the use of his reaction control system he positioned himself so that his thrusters didn’t point at the two mechs. Then he activated them. 

He didn’t want to burn them. He didn’t want to kill them.

Powering up his engines, he swiftly left the orbit of the meteoroid.

It was an accident.


End file.
